Begierde
by Rowan Buchanan
Summary: Roderich is a new face in the world of classical music, and has to consistently deal with the fact that he's homosexual. The introduction of a German man does nothing to control these feelings, and the Austrian will soon find himself mixed into a whole other world while under the duress of accusative rumors. (Image by Shidouaoi on DeviantArt)
1. Chapter 1

**Author note**: This story is under heavy revision. I've been serious about it since it's conception, but I just didn't know what angle I wanted to tackle it from. Once I figured out of the overall idea that I wanted it to be, I decided to do a re-write since my previous attempt was really haphazard and I wasn't writing it as well as I could have. So, take 2.0 :). Be aware that there will be explicit sexual themes, graphic depictions of violence, adult language and unpleasant/dark topics.

I'll try to keep this as historically accurate as I possibly can.

* * *

_The frozen wind bit at my cheeks, and my burning tears practically froze upon them in an instant. I had no coat, and my clothing was light, but the snow stormed around me. I could barely see an arm's length ahead of myself, and yet I charged on, blindly. I recall it later being the worst snow in the last ten years, and falling terribly ill the day after. It sounds like such a small thing to recall so vividly, especially as a young man of fourteen. But it was the striking visage of a red-eye'd phantom that struck out to me. To this day, that intense gaze still holds a lasting affect over my soul. It would be years until I found out that the man I'd seen that day wasn't a trick of my own mind, nor would I realize how strong of a hold he would have in my life._

**December of 1921, Vienna**

It was a misty morning; condensation rose from the heavy rain of the night before, causing a thick blanket of mist over the city. Roderich sat at his grand piano in his lounge, staring out into a well-maintained garden. The house wasn't the grandest, but it was quite well-made and beautiful, nonetheless. There were days that it felt as though it were still a dream, especially when he hadn't lived somewhere so nice since his childhood under the guardianship of his grandfather.

It seemed like this had all been given to him in a single night. A night, nearly three years ago now, he had put every last bit of the money his grandfather had left him into showcasing his talent at a known concert hall in his current city of residence, Vienna. Considered a musical prodigy by Adalric Hovart, a known composer and his grandfather, he became an instant icon in the world of classical music. While his strength was with piano, there were few instruments he was not familiar with to some degree, and he had a fair amount of knowledge in composition. Roderich looked to the keys, lightly running his fingers along the ivory pieces. These moments he had completely to himself left him deep in thought like this. To go from aristocracy, to practically living on the streets, to lower upper-class. It was always dizzying.

Roderich let out a sigh and shook his head, starting the morning off with a gentle piece by William Byrd.

**. . .**

Later that afternoon, Roderich sat on his sofa with a cup of freshly brewed tea on hand. Opposite to him, seated in chairs brought forward by his maid were the family of the young Lili Adenaur, a fellow musician whom had been placed in a few accompaniments with Roderich. She primarily played the violin, though had played at his side on the piano at the request of her parents for a few concerts. The family was one that had ties to his grandfather, and this had been the tenth time they had personally visited in the past eight months.

"Herr Edelstein, please consider it. Lili is young, yes, but you are not so much older than she is, and you are still a bachelor at twenty-two. If her being sixteen is uncomfortable for you, we can wait... but we must know a definitive answer. Your grandfather was a respected man, you are a respected man." An expected passing-over of both his mother and father. "So please. Lili is sweet, she is smart, she is kind... She would make a wonderful wife." Finished Mrs. Adenaur. Her husband sat at her side, staring at Roderich. He could not tell if the man was irate with him for being so finicky in his response or was making an attempt to further ward off his wife's begging. With a sigh, Roderich set his tea down.

"Please, Madam. Lili is a very nice girl," he emphasized, "but she is six years younger than I am- nearly seven. She still has so many years ahead of her. She could study, master the violin, become something more. I... I'm not entirely opposed to the idea, but I've only just begun my career and she's still so young..." He tried to reason, staring at his cup. "I do not know if she likes me much, either. She only speaks when spoken to." The woman quickly waved her hand, her eyes wide.

"No, No, Herr! This is only a trait of Lili. She's very shy, even toward her brother. I'm sure she enjoys your company more than you believe." There were tears in her eyes, and Roderich began to feel far more uncomfortable than he had the moment he heard this woman was entering his house again. "I beg of you. We have little left, Herr. You are the only suitable man we know near her age. You are law-abiding, you are talented, you are handsome," Her husband turned his glare towards her, "you are well off... She would be happy here. I know you would be happy once you got to know her, too."

Roderich brought his hands to his lap, tightly holding on them. He looked between the two of them. This is exactly what he had always dreaded. He was a bachelor for a reason. There was no woman he would ever feel such a way towards. Lili, likely, would not be happy with him at all. He did not know if he could ever give a wife a child, if he could ever love her to the degree she would deserve. His preferences... were far from unacceptable. "I... I need time, still. Not while she's so young. Please forgive me." He finally said, his eyes downcast. "Be reassured that there is no one and what I say is... genuine." Roderich finished, reaching for his tea.

The woman sighed and nodded her head in a sorrowful manner. "I understand, Herr. If you can, would you be willing to feature Lili in one of your personal concerts one of these days, on her violin? Perhaps... someone can notice her." Roderich's eyes flashed up at her when she said this, and he could see her eyes were staring off across the room, in a bitter expression. Roderich bit the inside of his cheek. He nodded, however.

"Yes. I can do that much for her. She's a very talented girl." He replied, taking a sip of the tea he'd nearly forgotten.

"Thank you." Replied her father now, and the two took their leave. Roderich stood, seeing them off. When he turned, he now knew what had caused Magdelene Adenuar to have such a sour gaze. Elizaveta stood across the room with her hands folded before her; her eyes rather apologetic. It was inappropriate for a single man to have a female worker so close to his own age working in his house. A fairly beautiful one, at that. Roderich walked toward her and shook his head.

"It's fine, Eliza. You did nothing wrong." His lips twitched into a small smile. "Actually, you probably did a lot for me by making an appearance when you did." Her eyes brightened at that and she sighed in relief.

"Good. I was afraid that this was something you were serious about. They come here so much, after-all." Her Hungarian accent was still very thick, so much so that it was hard for some to make out what she was saying with perfect clarity, but much of what she knew was taught by both Roderich and Adalric. Thus, by this point, she was practically fluent in German; both spoken and written. With the conjoined countries and her presence in Austria as a young girl, it was only to be expected.

"Well, it is something to handle seriously. They're asking for me to marry their daughter." Her brows shot up at that, and she looked at him inquisitively while they returned to the lounge. "However, I don't have an interest in it. She's only a child, really. They're nice people, but I believe they only truly want to marry her to me because I have money and a reputation, because beyond that, they truly don't know much about me." He remarked, thinking back on how Magdelene commented on him being a good and law-abiding man. "Despite what she said today," he continued, "I don't believe Lili wants to be with me, either." Roderich explained, recalling how she would hardly look at him and the way she was so incredibly aware of herself. She could just be shy, but they had performed a few times these last two years together and typically spent weeks in almost constant company.

"She is the girl you've performed with, right? The little blonde?" Roderich nodded his head. "I'd be surprised if they can't find a suitor. She's very pretty. Surely you can't be the only one?" Roderich shrugged. He likely wasn't, but Magdelene was set on him like a hawk going after its prey. It was true that their world was mostly filled with older men, but there was bound to be a good person for her that wasn't a musician. Truthfully, so long as their occupation was respectable, Roderich could see little problem with her marrying someone not involved in this life.

He folded his hands behind his back. "I believe seeing you has made her cross with me, Eliza. She may not press the matter further, though I fear she'll return if she cannot find anyone else within the year." What a headache that would be.

**. . .**

That evening, Roderich decided to go for a stroll about the town. He rarely left his small piece of Vienna, but tonight the the air felt nice. It was crisp, clean and cool. There wasn't a cloud within sight, and so it seemed it would be a good time to star gaze. Perhaps when he returned home, however, where he could have a nice glass of wine to finish the day. He smiled at the thought and pushed his hands into the pockets of his jacket, letting his feet simply carry him through the city.

His mind returned to Lili. He pictured her in mind. She was short, barely hitting his chest. Her golden hair, while once quite long, now reached her shoulders. Her large, doe-like eyes... Roderich shook his head. He couldn't find any desire for her. On top of that, she had only just turned sixteen. She may have been a woman now, but to him, she was still a young girl. He recalled how he could be at that age, even if it wasn't so long ago. He was naive, overly emotional, and lost within himself. To be with someone that reflected those years of his life... it seemed as though he'd be taking advantage of them. He truly hoped the matter had been put to rest. If not... perhaps he could pretend. Perhaps Elizaveta would agree to act as his lover. The idea of kissing her crossed his mind, and he couldn't contain his scowl.

Roderich's thoughts, in that moment, were interrupted as he suddenly found himself on the ground, staring up at the sky, oddly noting that it had become dark before he'd even realized it. His breath was not coming to him, and his mind was mixed between panic and confusion. He heard voices around him, yelling, the sound of something cracking. Roderich looked around, and soon found himself in the middle of a fight, right beneath their feet. One went flying, another was hit with something. Wood, perhaps. He blinked, and suddenly someone was pulling him up.

"-Up, get up, man!" A voice barked at Roderich, bringing him to his senses. "We need to go." The voice spoke again. It was deep, strong, urgent in tone. And to his surprise, Roderich found himself running, that same man clutching onto his shoulder. He had no idea what was going on. He tried to look to see who this was, but he was hooded. Voices yelled after them, and to Roderich's surprise, he heard a hearty laugh escape the hooded man.

"FUCK YOU, FUCKING SCUM!" Screeched a voice before the two turned a corner, heading down a small passageway. They darted left, right, this way, that way. Eventually, Roderich could no longer run and had to slow to a stop. He sides ached and his throat burned. He fought to regain his composure, and felt a small bead of sweat drop from his chin. He leant against a nearby wall, and soon heard cackling. When he looked at his new affiliate, he saw the man doubled over; fighting between laughing and breathing.

Roderich went to ask for the man's identity, though noticed a few droplets of blood hit the ground next to the man, something he wouldn't have noticed without the aid of a distant light on the street before them. Roderich rested a hand on his chest, regaining his breath. "You're bleeding?" It wasn't suppose to come out as a question, yet it so very awkwardly did.

The man snickered again, and Roderich furrowed his brows. "They hit me pretty good." The man explained and wiped at his face, standing up straight. They were likely around the same height, though judging from the silhouette, this man was much more muscular than Roderich was. "Didn't mean to get some guy mixed up in that mess. Sorry for ramming into you like that. They pushed me first." He explained, and turned to face Roderich, dropping his hood. When the man revealed his face, shock engulfed Roderich's mind.

Everything about him was pure white, aside from the blood tricking out of his lips and nose. His eyes, despite being an almost translucent blue, had a red sheen over them. Immediately, Roderich was thrown back to the day his grandfather had died and the red-eyed man standing against a post, staring at him. This time, however, he spoke.

"Call me Gil."

* * *

Annnnd, that'll be the end of this chapter. I changed Gilbert's eyes from red to blue because people with albinism don't have red eyes. It kind of looks like they do, especially when they have really light blue eyes, but they don't. This isn't in anyway a criticism of Himaruya or on other fic writers or artists, but I do favor realism and wanted to give Gilbert ocular albinism as well, which would give that sort of red tint to the eyes, and for them to reflect a red color. I felt like it would be more impactful for him to be like that. It may or may not be something I keep. We'll see :P.

* Herr means sir in German.

*I gave Lili a different surname from Zwingli since research suggests that a Catholic wouldn't keep a Protestant-based name(at least, that's how I understood what I found), and Lichtenstein is dominated by Catholics. Could be wrong, but I have other reasons as well... of which will likely be revealed in later chapters.


	2. Chapter 1-5

_Chapter 1.5_

* * *

**December of 1914, Graz**

Roderich stood outside in the old wooden hall, facing the door to his own room. It was late, though he couldn't think of what time it might be. He'd walked along this hall for hours, with his thoughts running rampant. Opa had been unwell for months, now. During the spring, sometime in late May, Roderich had seen him collapse, and the day the war was announced in July, it had happened again. The state of his health grew worse with each passing week from that point forward, and when he received news of a new young man joining the fight, his strength waned further.

Adalric was a man of art, peace, and compassion. After the Archduke had been assassinated, the country was in uproar. The concerts-perhaps his only escape- halted, and with his health as poor as it had become, there was no chance for Adalric, anyhow. He expressed worry, constantly, over the war and how long it could be, fearing that there would be a day when Roderich would be recruited. Hearing news of all the young boys of Britain that had been reportedly among their numbers, it only seemed to age the man by years.

Roderich breathed a sharp breath, and tried once again to calm his nerves. The day before, his Opa had fainted again. It was at his grand piano in the room beneath the stairs of the foyer. When the nearly endless music had come to a stop, with no continuation, the entire household knew that something was wrong. And since, he had been bedridden. The nurse, Hajna, that had been hired said little on his condition to Roderich, though it was evident that the elderly man was not getting better. So now, he waited... dreading... hoping. Hoping that his Opa would simply stand up with his old grace, and smile his dazzling smile again.

A door opened, and slowly closed. Roderich bit his lower lip. Soft footsteps echoed in the lower halls, and soon, Hajna gently called out. "Roderich? Eliza? Herr Hovart is awake. He would like to see you." Roderich swallowed, and left the small hallway. He peered over his shoulder for Elizaveta, but did not see her. Come to think of it, he hadn't seen her in some time. She couldn't have fallen asleep, could she?

"Come, children." Hajna called again, and began to return to the room she had set up for him. Roderich folded his arms and simply walked down stairs, believing she had to follow after him soon enough. She had been just as worried as he had. She couldn't be sleeping. It was too unlike her.

Upon entering the room, Roderich could feel the tears already sting his eyes. His grandfather lay there, looking as though he had aged a century. His skin was almost pure white, his brown-grey hair had become silver at the roots, and his angular features looked haunting with the loss of weight. His brown eyes opened, and he slowly looked to the door, weakly beckoning Roderich with one finger. Immediately, he obeyed.

"Mäuschen," Roderich could not even hate the nickname, as the almost inaudible whisper nearly broke his heart, "sit." Hajna grabbed a chair, and brought it over. When Roderich sat, he took Adalric's hand. The man's eyes studied Roderich for a short time and he gave a deep exhale. "You haven't eaten, Mäuschen?" Roderich almost scoffed, and shook his head. "You must keep healthy, my boy." Roderich simply nodded his head, looking at his grandfather's thin hands in his own. It was hard to believe that this had all happened so quickly. It was mere months ago that he was full of life and seemed to have not aged a day since Roderich had met him as a small boy. To see what once looked like a king reduced to this...

"Where is little 'Liza?" Aldaric asked suddenly, looking toward Hajna. The woman quietly ducked out, going to find her. Roderich could not take his eyes off his grandfather.

"Opa-" He began, but Aldaric held up his free hand, silencing him.

"Please, Roderich, do not join the war." Aldaric said suddenly. "We have already lost Aleksej. They cannot find Diederich." A tear fell from the man's eye, and he stifled a whimper. His glossy eyes looked to Roderichs. "Your hands, Mäuschen, are for music, not for weapons. They create, they do not take." He reached over, and cupped over the hand Roderich was holding. "Christel blessed me with you. Blessed this world with you. Know this. You must live and show your talents." He now stopped, and had to breath. Each word was quickly repeated after the other, and Roderich knew it was because the man felt there was little time left. He could not stop the tears that began to spill over.

"You, Christel and Eliza are the treasures in my heart. Remember that." Aldaric coughed again, and now Hajna returned with a red-eyed Elizaveta. Like Roderich was before, she was beckoned over. Immediately, she cried. Roderich allowed for Aldaric's hands to leave his so he could reach out to her. She leant down, and hugged him. He simply rested a hand on her back, and Roderich noticed how it shook.

Roderich stood, allowing for Eliza to sit. Aldaric held her hand much as he had with his grandson earlier, and the two spoke in Hungarian. It was likely a similar speech.

Roderich had came to Graz from Wolfsberg at the age of four, after the death of his mother. The day was vivid in his mind. There had been an instant connection between he and Adalric, and it brought comfort through his own grief. Eliza had come the year following. She was a distant relative of Adalric, a fifth cousin, and news had been brought to him by her aunt that Eliza had been an orphan all her life. When she arrived, she was only three years old, and the two had practically been raised as siblings. And of the two, Eliza was typically the stronger one. But even now, she couldn't rely on her strength. Neither of them could in any form.

Suddenly, mid-sentence, Adalric began to cough violently. Eliza gasped, and Hajna ran toward him, crouching over him and trying to support his head. The moment Roderich saw red dripping from the corners of the man's mouth, he knew he couldn't stay. He could not watch this happen. He could not bare to lose his mentor, his guardian... his father. He spun on his heel, and he ran. He nearly fell down the stairs, and he didn't bother to grab a coat off the rack as the door came closer to his reach. He could barely make out Eliza's cries for him.

The snow bit his fingers, his nose, and his eyes. His tears were drops of ice the second they left his tearducts. His lungs, however, were on fire, and he couldn't see past the water and storming snow. He had nothing, now. He knew it in his heart that he would not return to see his Opa alive. But he couldn't stand there, helpless, as the star in his life faded to ash. That final image of crimson blood tormented him, and he could not even hear his own gasps and sobs.

Unknowingly, his feet carried him. He couldn't tell if he was freezing or burning. When he almost ran into a lamp post, he finally stopped and leant against it, weeping. "Bitte, Gott. Nicht mein Opa." He repeated, over and over. Why did it have to be like this? Why him? He was not that old. He wasn't an unhealthy person. He never did bad things. But he was dying so quickly, and so slowly. "WIESO?!" He suddenly yelled as the wind hushed. There was a crunching sound, someone was walking through the snow. Roderich suddenly looked up, and was shocked. Red eyes focused on him, and he could hardly see another feature through the snow. He could barely make out as smoke blew out, and the eyes seemed to narrow at him. There was nothing evil about this look, however. There seemed to be more of a curiosity to it.

He could now make out a cigar as it met, where Roderich assumed, this person's lips were. Smoke was blown out again moments later. "You're going to freeze to death." He spoke, and held up a hand to beckon him over. Roderich furrowed his brows and a sudden chill came over him. He shivered violently and wrapped his arms around his body, biting his lower lip to keep it from shuddering. His tears had stopped. The man scoffed and walked toward him. When Roderich took a step back, there was a laugh. "I'm not going to kill you or something, shit." He continued to come toward Roderich. There was no way of even telling his age, but he had to be some years older. There was nothing about him that seemed to be remotely close to Roderich's own age.

Before Roderich could find anything to say, this man had strewn his arm over Roderich's shoulder and had extended his coat with it, pulling him in. He smelled faintly of alcohol and tobacco. It was a little revolting, but he couldn't run from this warmth. "Come on, kid." Roderich could feel hot breath his his ear. The man threw his cigar to the ground and stepped on it, and they began to head toward the center of town.

* * *

* Opa = Grandpa

* Mäuschen = "little mouse"

* "Bitte, Gott. Nicht mein Opa." = "Please, God. Not my grandpa." (hopefully :|)

* Wieso = Why/how come


End file.
